"Abortion!" The Word Raked
The retching and vomiting
of morning sickness I felt wanted to tear me apart. Crackers and Jelly
was a way to look for pectin so I could quickly calm the misery.
"Iíve waited too long and
now Iím in trouble. Should have done something about this lump in my
side. Hereís the part I hate," I muttered to myself as I picked up the
phone to call the gynaecologist.
A lined drawing of a
woman by Picasso hung on the wall behind the doctor. Somehow the black
and white piece went with this slight looking man who had an
aristocratic bearing. He kept his expression bland as he spoke.
"I would say, you have
fibroid tumors. I advise an abortion. You will not be able to deliver.
It would probably be a bloody mess and you will die on the table."
My experience with
doctors made me aware of their grandstanding. To myself I thought,
"nothing like the old, one, two to get my attention."
"I usually make it a
practice to get several opinions, doctor. Will this be acceptable to
you?" I was being cautious and
wasnít going to get into
conflict at a time when the baggage I carried certainly might make me a
"Of course, of course. I
always welcome the opinion of another doctor."
He did seem relieved to
see me stand and move toward the door.
"Thank you, doctor, Iíll
be calling you." But in my mind I was thinking, "when hell freezes
over." I kept a smile and waved a friendly good-by as I walked past his
"Abortion!" The word
raked at my mind like some clawing animal. "There must be someone up
there who likes to joke with me and my sanity." At this time it was a
point to ponder. "How am I going to deal with this issue? I have no idea
what the answer might be."
Research in religious
material brought no answers in that year of 1975. My mind went back over
Hammurabiís code once studied in Western Civilization. An eye for an
eye? No! No! That has nothing to do with this. Sometimes the things
taught in college tore at me and I did not pray before Rhondaís birth as
my Native American people taught the mother to do daily and as the
wisdom of the prophets taught the mother of Samson to do. Before Mark
was born I was humbled even unto my knees and I was able to keep my
Slowly but slowly my mind
began to return to the doctor of my own faith I used at Oklahoma City.
Could I put this matter on his shoulders?
When the man discussed my
situation he was obviously baffled. I knew he was at an indecision. His
faith, the circumstance, what to do?
It was evident he was
trying to think through what to do.
"Doctor, I know a
physician in Dallas who delivered my son. I would like to have an
opportunity to call him for an appointment. He was very good with my
"Well yes." He answered
me and seemed okay with my decision. "If you already are acquainted with
him and have confidence in him.
Again a doctor seemed
relieved to have me walk out of his office even though I knew he would
be there for whatever had to be done.
"My doctor in Dallas has
given me an appointment." I spoke with Rodney.
"Well, okay! That is
great!" Rod was willing to do anything to avoid having to go through
another dangerous pregnancy.
Our car sped along the
highways on our way back into the big city of Dallas. Once again I felt
the love for this city rise in my bosom. "If there wasnít so many
bridges to cross I could live here forever," I told Rodney.
My physician who
delivered Mark now greeted me in his examining room. The man was the
epitome of strength and confidence in himself and somehow he transferred
that calmness to his patient. I felt secure and safe with him.
He was flanked by two
other doctors who were with him. After examination he turned to one of
"I want you to do an
abdominal on her".
As the other doctor
studied the pressure of his hands on my abdomen he said, "there is
something here other than a normal pregnant uterus."
No assumptions were being
made by these doctors. Their skill was as careful as an artistís study
of some linear feature on a modelís face in order to catch a likeness.
I had gone from doctor to
doctor like a child begging for attention. Somehow there was never any
emotional break down, no crying, not any doubt for what was to be. Too
many times I looked death in the face until this seemed to be something
as common as eggs and toast for breakfast.